Troy didn’t know his partner very well yet, but he had every confidence in her already. He accompanied her as she went methodically from room to room, making notes, using her life-logger. Troy built up a different kind of picture of Olga Wylie. There were no photographs on the walls, no signs of a fondness for family or friends. No signs of fondness for herself. There was one photograph of Olga. It was lying face-down in the living room. Along with the contents of her kitchen, it told Troy that she was an overweight middle-aged woman who ate too much junk food and drank alcohol. Perhaps her lifestyle had contributed to her ill-health. At least the photo confirmed that she was L4G#2.
When Lexi had been in every room, she stopped and said, ‘You know one thing we haven’t found?’
‘A computer.’
‘Apart from that.’
‘What?’
‘Her handbag.’
‘Handbag?’
Lexi smiled. ‘An essential piece of equipment for major women. They keep all sorts in them. Rummage in a handbag and you’ll find a forensic treasure trove.’
‘So, what do we do?’
‘We go round again — till we find it. And if we don’t, I put the whole team on the job. Come on. It’ll be tucked away somewhere, but easily accessible. Perhaps with her coats, so she could grab both at the same time.’
Lexi went out into the hall, examining every door, every surface, even tapping the walls and listening to the sound. She found what she wanted under the stairs. The wall panel sounded hollow. There was no obvious way into the cubby-hole, no handle. On the left-hand side, the door didn’t react to Lexi’s push. But when she touched the right-hand side of the panel, it sprang back smoothly.
Reaching inside, Lexi cried, ‘Hey presto! Coats and handbag. We’re in business.’ She put the embroidered bag down on a table, opened it and delved inside. As an outer, she could never leave fingerprints on evidence, but she used gloves to avoid contaminating it with flakes of her skin and smudging traces with sweat. ‘Here we go,’ she declared, lifting out a smartphone. ‘Not as good as a laptop, but I want Terabyte on this.’
SCENE 16
Terabyte had synchronized Olga Wylie’s mobile with his computer. His monitor showed exactly what was on her smartphone. He’d got a short list of phone numbers that she’d used, a very brief history of texts and a record of internet sites that she’d visited. The phone had not recorded any activity after Tuesday 25th March.
‘Just over two weeks ago,’ said Troy. ‘That’s probably when she died.’ He touched his life-logger and said, ‘I got her medical records. She had a weak heart. She’d been on the transplant waiting list for ages but she didn’t get lucky. No one donated a heart that matched her blood type. No one legal anyway.’
‘All these phone numbers and texts check out,’ Terabyte told the two detectives. ‘Nothing shifty. A hairdresser, the online shop she used, the hospital …’
‘Genuine hospital?’ asked Troy.
‘Yes. And the texts are from a bank, shops and that sort of thing. Her emails have been deleted. Not a single one left.’
Troy sighed. ‘Okay. Let’s see the internet sites in her history.’
Terabyte displayed them on his monitor.
Almost immediately, Troy picked out one from the small number of named sites. She’d visited ‘The Solitude Network’ repeatedly. ‘What’s that?’
Terabyte clicked on the link and read from the header, ‘A place for the lonely and isolated to meet and talk.’
‘That’s what we want,’ Troy declared immediately. ‘We need to know who she’s been talking to.’
‘We don’t know her username.’
‘True,’ Troy replied, ‘but I want to see every message on the site for … let’s say … a month leading up to 25th March.’
‘Sure,’ Terabyte said. ‘No problem.’ He stroked a few keys and the information appeared onscreen. Scrolling down the sizeable blog, he muttered, ‘There’s a lot of lonely people out there.’
‘If Olga posted anything, we might be able to work out which one she is, what she put and what replies she got,’ said Troy eagerly. ‘We can narrow it down by eliminating anybody who blogged after 25th March.’
‘And the ones who are obviously men or outers,’ Lexi said.
‘Okay. I’m on to it,’ Terabyte replied. His fingers flew across the keypad and the onscreen list began to shorten.
‘Hold it!’ Lexi almost shouted.
‘What?’
She pointed to an entry on the screen. ‘A post by someone calling themselves Wily Fox. Is that a coincidence? We’re after Olga Wylie.’
Troy said, ‘No, it’s not a coincidence. Look. It’s about health and hearts.’
Samaritan 999: I’ve been thinking. What about alternative medicine? Have you tried anything like that?
Wily Fox: I’ve heard of the crazy stuff like powdered rhino horn. That’s supposed to reduce fevers, but I just think of the poor creatures that get killed. Does any of it really work? Are there any that heal hearts without hurting animals?
Samaritan 999: Let me do a bit of research. I think there is something. Maybe I can put you in touch with someone who could help.
Wily Fox: Thanks. I’ll log back on tomorrow.
Troy said, ‘Scroll back in time, Terabyte. She must have blogged about her heart problem before. Can you isolate all her posts — and the replies?’
‘That’s a manual sorting job. It’ll take a while.’
‘How long? Hours?’
Terabyte shrugged. ‘It depends how much there is. But, no, I mean minutes, not seconds.’
‘You’re a genius.’
‘I know,’ Terabyte replied. ‘But I’ll get it onto your life-loggers quicker if you’re not breathing down my neck and talking to me.’
‘Hint taken. We’ll leave you to it.’ Pushing his luck on his way out, Troy said, ‘Afterwards, you could contact whoever hosts this site. See if they’ll tell you anything about Wily Fox and Samaritan 999.’
‘Okay.’
‘Thanks.’
Walking away with Troy, Lexi said, ‘Some spare minutes. Great. I’m going to switch off. I guess you’re going to do the opposite.’
Troy nodded. ‘Thinking time.’
Half an hour later, they were both reading Olga’s entries on The Solitude Network. Quickly, they focused on the posts that had something to do with her health and read the first one.
Wily Fox: Normally I don’t mind being on my own. Love it really. I’m not your typical lonely heart and I’m not after a date. It’s just that there are times when it would be great to have someone to sympathise.
Take a Break: I’m with you on that, Wily Fox. What’s the problem?
Wily Fox: Illness, I’m afraid.
Take a Break: I know precisely what you mean.
Samaritan 999: Me too. Is it the silly niggling things or something serious that gets you down?
Wily Fox: Let me put it this way. I’m not so much a lonely heart as a failing heart.
Samaritan 999: That’s not so good.
Take a Break: You have plenty of sympathy here. Virtual hugs and kisses.
‘The follow-up chat was interesting,’ Troy said. ‘The bit about alternative medicine and putting her in touch with someone who could help.’